


The Heart of a Champion

by Inalandofmythandtimeofmagic



Category: Thomas Sanders, sanderssides
Genre: Fantasy AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11485974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inalandofmythandtimeofmagic/pseuds/Inalandofmythandtimeofmagic
Summary: Prince Roman must find his heat before he causes the fall of his kingdom





	The Heart of a Champion

Sweat trickled down his back as he continued to swing his sword through the thick briars. He was exhausted, truly and utterly, but he made himself swing again and again. The adrenaline of finally spotting the fortress after weeks lost in this godforsaken forest, had long worn off. 

The sword fell from his hand, and he dropped to his knees after it. He panted deep lungfuls of damp air, each breath feeling heavy. He was so close, he just had to keep pushing, after a year of translating vague prophecies, hunting down witnesses and seers, trekking from one side of the Kingdom to the other and back again, he was so damn close. He rolled from his knees to his back, his limbs week from fatigue and trembling from hunger. 

He closed his eyes against the frustrated tears burning there. So close. He was so close. Inside that fortress he would find his heart. The thing that had been missing all his life, the thing he needed to rule his kingdom. For who would follow a King without a heart? A stray tear or two slipped past the barricade of his eyelids as he recalled the bitter words slung his way.

Prince Roman the heartless

The uncaring heir

As untrustworthy as a snake

No matter how many times he had tried to prove himself. No matter how many heroic deeds or acts of charity. No matter how many times he had felt his pulse race or his heartbeat through his ribcage as rage flooded through him. It wasn't ever enough. He was never enough.

And if he didn't get up out of the dirt he never would be. 

He set his jaw determinedly and struggled back to his feet. He picked up the sword again, his grip weak around its hilt, and swung. Once, twice more before it dropped again, Roman along with it. The edges of his vision turned soft, then black as he lay with his cheek pressed to the ground. 

 

Consciousness came back to him slowly, in sickening waves. He blinked one eye open, quickly shutting it against the spinning sky.  
Perhaps he could just lay here, let the ground swallow him whole, let the brambles entangle his bones. There was something Romantic in the idea, the thought of slipping from people's minds. Gently fading from the memory of a kingdom that never wanted him. 

He took a few deep breaths, listening to the absolute silence. He hadn't seen a single animal for the last three days or so. Nothing lived here in the dead, decaying center of the vast forest. Nothing edible, nothing vibrant, nothing good.

What did that say about his heart?

Maybe there was a good reason that witch had stripped it from him. What if it was dark? Evil? What if it was the very thing that was poisoning this part of the forest? 

He blinked his eyes open again, sight landing on the glittering handle of his sword. A symbol of his royal status, of his heroism.

A cheap bit of pageantry.

He had never felt so. . . Disheartened.

He let out a harsh snicker, tilting his head back to look at the fortress that supposedly contained the answer to that very problem. 

He sighed, forcing himself to his feet and picking his sword. He took a steadying breath, then another, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping around the hilt before taking the first swing. He swung again and again, each movement powered by desperation, and anger. The deep well of anger that had been festering his whole life, the one he had so desperately hidden from. He drew on it now, every sneer, every child that had looked at him with fear. 

Rage powered his exhausted limbs until he was only five feet from the heavy wooden door. 

Four feet

Three.

With a cry of fury he crashed through the heavy wooden door, anger coursing through every inch of his body. Sweat dripping from his brow and his chest heaving stuttered breaths.

Something hit him square in the chest, knocking him back a few steps until his back hit the door jam. His sword clattered to the floor as arms wrapped around him. Fingers slipped into his hair and whatever it was, whoever, it was was whispering. Sobbing his name against his shoulder.

“Roman. Oh my god Roman you're okay. You here and you're okay.”

“What?” Is all he can manage before starvation and sheer exhaustion take him again. 

 

When he came to it was somewhere warm, and soft. He sighed, nestling deeper into the comfort. He couldn't remember ever feeling so . . . Safe. He may have even gone back to sleep if it weren't for the hand gently sweeping the hair off of his forehead. He opened his eyes slowly, a small smile forming on his lips as he took in the sight. A boy about his own age was looking down at him in a way that no one ever had. His face was open, and honest. There was no resentment there, no fear or distrust. He didn't look at him as though he was something lesser, instead he smiled. He was grinning a grin that held all the light of the sun and it was breathtaking. His traced the lines of this man's face, took in the color of his eye and the swoop of his hair over his forehead. He was beautiful.

And speaking to him, Roman realized belatedly, trying to focus on the words. The man was speaking very gently and yet his tone held an undercurrent of warmth and cheer, as he tried to convince him to take a sip of water. Roman accepted the drink as the man helped him to sit up. Shame turned his ears red, a champion such as himself should not need help to sit. But his limbs were useless, and as he moved his head spun, a wave of dizziness causing him to cling to the proffered arm.

“Easy now, it's okay.” The man continued to speak in that gentle way, “we'll get some broth in you and you’ll find your strength again in no time.” 

Find.

That word was important.

Why was that word important? 

He groaned and pressed a hand to his head, wincing slightly. The smile disappeared from the man’s face, replaced by a look of concern. 

“Oh Roman. I wish I could have helped you sooner.” He cupped his cheek, “I could see you last night, and when you collapsed; I feared the worst.” Roman was slightly shocked to see a tear slip down the beautiful mans face. Without thinking about it he reached up to wipe it away, smiling when the man leaned into his hand.

“Who are you?” He whispered in wonderment. 

It was the wrong thing to say, the man's face fell instantly and he pulled away from his hand to give him a crestfallen look. Roman missed his smile, this was not nearly as good. 

“You don't know who I am? Then why are you here?”

“ I'm on a quest, to find my,” he paused struggling to remember what he was supposed to be looking for. “My heart. I have to find my heart.”

“That's me.” The man rose to his feet, clearly upset. “ I am your soulmate. How have you never known this?” 

“Soulmates are a myth, everyone knows that.” 

The other was speechless, his eyes wet. “But you feel it right?”

“I. . .” Roman spluttered, his pulse was racing and he couldn't take his eyes off him. He couldn’t deny the feeling of joy and longing at the very center of his being, “Yes” he finally breathed, “yes and I don't even know your name. I feel like I don't know anything.” 

The man smiled brightly again, coming to sit next him and taking his hands. Roman couldn't help but lean towards him, a small smile curling his own lips. 

“Prince Roman, I am Patton, and I am your heart.” 

“Yeah, I think you are.” 

Patton laughed at that. He laughed loudly, and brightly. It surprised Roman, and delighted him. Completely entranced he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Patton’s lips. 

He could feel things melting in that kiss, his anger and fear. They were replaced with things like love, and self assurance. 

He had to pull away when he was hit with another wave a dizziness. He flopped back into the cushions and Patton tutted over him, bringing a bowl of broth to his lips. Once he had drank as much as he could Patton put the bowl away and lay down beside him, pulling him into the cradle of his arms. Roman blushed a little at that, but happily settled in nonetheless. 

“So you've just been here the whole time? Just locked away.” Roman asked, voice tinged in anger as he considered just what the consequences of having his heart stolen at birth were.

“Yes, and this may sound strange but I never felt upset about it till just now. Maybe I was missing something too, a little fight I guess, a little courage. Besides I always knew you were coming.” He tightened his arm around Roman’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his hair.

“I should have come sooner.” Roman pouted, turning slightly so he could press his face into Patton’s shoulder. 

“Do not worry my love, my life here was not so bad. The witch only desired to see your father's kingdom crumble, she had nothing against me. A family from the village brings me food, and books and company once a month. I’ve never wanted for anything. Other than freedom.” Patton was smiling but he couldn't hide the bitter edge to the last words. 

Roman stretched upwards to press a kiss to Patton’s jaw. “ tomorrow I will take you home.” He promised.

Patton chuckled lightly, “ You need to recuperate, I am willing to stay as long as that takes. Besides, they should be here with in a week and we could ride back with them. From what I’ve seen through the windows this is not easy terrain. ”

“Tomorrow.” Roman said firmly. Or as firmly as he could with Patton’s fingers sifting through his hair and his eyes drooping sleepily. He resisted, there was still so much he didn't understand, the truth seemed to be so different than what he had been told and Patton seemed to have the answers he needed. He was done for when Patton began to hum low and sweet, and sleep overtook him.

 

Unto a King who spurned love shall be born an heir,  
An heir that shall fell his kingdom, a boy with no heart.

The words of the prophecy ran through his dreams, and he could see her face. The witch of halved hearts. This was the dark side of the heart that spoke, her face black and twisting. Then, just like every other time he had had this nightmare, the light half of the heart took over to speak the rest of the prophecy, her face shimmering and white. 

For I shall take his heart and hide it away,  
Safe in the land of death, should it be found  
Mayhaps destiny will lose its hand 

Roman sat bolt upright, fear racing through his veins. His vision swam and he didn't know where he was. He near jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his back. He swung around wide eyed, only to see Patton's face, brow puckered in concern, the moonlight casting strange shadows over it. 

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to wake you.” He said quickly laying back down, rolling over so he could hide his face in sheets. 

Slowly Patton lay down again, slipping one arm over his side and splaying his hand over his chest. 

“It’s okay, are you alright?” he asked, pressing a kiss to Roman’s shoulder. 

“Yes, it was just a nightmare. One I’ve had many times, nothing to worry about.” He tried to brush it off, ignoring the cobwebs of fear that still clung to him. 

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s not worth clouding that pretty little head.”

“Roman,” Patton whined, somewhat pleadingly. It made him smile slightly and he pressed back against Patton, letting the steady rise and fall of his chest comfort him. 

“”We are probably breaking every rule of propriety.” he said with a chuckle, mostly to change the subject.

“Propriety? I don’t know that word.” Roman huffed a sad laugh, rolling over to look at him. 

“It means that what we are doing wouldn’t be considered, proper.” 

“But we’re soulmates.” He said with genuine confusion. A grin split his face and he leaned forward to kiss his heart again. 

“Yes, but you must remember that you are the only person who still believes in them.” he laughed when he had pulled away. 

“That’s sad.” he frowned. Roman hummed in agreement, settling closer to him. The silence stretched on, until he felt as though he might fall back asleep, before Patton broke it again. “It's the prophecy, huh? Your nightmare? I know because I get them too. But you know it's meaningless right?”

“What?”

“The prophecy, it's just some flowery words the witch made up to make her enchantment seem important. She doesn't actually have any power over the future all she did, all she could do was kidnap me and enchant this place to keep me from leaving. You are not going to ruin your kingdom, I promise.” 

Roman pressed his face into Patton’s chest, ignoring the tears that were burning the corners of his eyes. 

“You don't know that.” he mumbled, letting the misery wash over him. 

“I may not know much, but I do know that.”

Roman scoffed at the optimism, then marveled at it. How had it flourished in a place like this?

“Do you know what else I know?” Patton continued.

“Hmm?”

“That you are exhausted, and recovering and need to sleep.” 

He chuckled again , nestling as close to Patton as he could, smiling at the thought of his father’s face if he could see him now, he would be furious. 

Acting on a small rebellious impulse, he slung one leg over Patton’s for good measure before quickly falling asleep again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading let me know what you thought! Also come find me on Tumblr @inalandofmythandtimeofmagic


End file.
